


Cold

by Crystalitemoon



Category: New Dangan Ronpa V3: Everyone's New Semester of Killing
Genre: Angst, As well as Momota Kaito and K1-Bo, Author Is Sleep Deprived, Because its 3 am, Canonical Character Death, Did i mention its 3 am?, Hurt No Comfort, K1-Bo is written Kiibo in this one, M/M, No beta we die like REAL NONBINARY PEOPLE, Not gonna be my best work but i tried, Oneshot, Ouma not Oma, Sad Saihara Shuichi, That should have been up further in the tags, gay as fuck but sad as hell, hooooo boy im so sorry, how the fuck do you expect me to get someone to beta it at 3 am????, i love these two boys with my entire heart which means they have to SUFFER, its like 3 am and im on angst fumes you know shit about to go DOWN, just like me, lots and lots of blood, mentioned Harukawa Maki, poor Shuichi, this is one one my favorite ships i dont know why im doing this, whoops this was a mistake
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-07
Updated: 2020-04-07
Packaged: 2021-03-01 21:54:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 862
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23524180
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Crystalitemoon/pseuds/Crystalitemoon
Summary: Shuichi had spent so long with the small leader that he had taken him for granted.He knew he should have cherished him while he could.(or in which Kokichi is so, so cold, and Shuichi breaks under the weight of his small body)
Relationships: Oma Kokichi/Saihara Shuichi
Comments: 8
Kudos: 111





	Cold

**Author's Note:**

> Hey y'all! Im so sorry about this shit! I promise i was working on A Second chance to make it right, but then i got sidetracked by my lovely V3 children and started this shit at 3 am..... heh. Anyway! Please enjoy this 3 am insomnia-induced-angst-covered one shot that my wrecked mind decided to churn out at the ungodly hour of dawn! I hope you find it okay, like i'm really scared you guys might find it unsatisfactory. But enough of that! On we go!!!!!
> 
> ALSO DID YOU KNOW OUMASAI IS SEMI CANON LIKE IM QUAKING. ITS NOT COMPLETELY CANON BUT ILL TAKE IT I LOVE THEM SO MUCH!!!!!

“Hey, Saihara chan.”

Shuichi turned his head over his shoulder to look at the violet haired boy that stood behind him, annoyance bleeding into his tone. “What now, Ouma-Kun?”.

They were in the library, checking for any books that would hold bits of evidence on how to escape from this hellish game. Ouma, strangely, had only said a few choice words, but Shuichi was still a bit irritated.

“What do you think dying would feel like?”

Startled by the morbid question, Shuichi turned to stare incredulously at Ouma, the smaller boy still facing the other direction. “I don't know.” he answered slowly, “It depends on how you die.”

“Do you think it happens quickly?”

Shuichi, still puzzled, answered the pale boy’s question. “That also depends on the method. Why? Is something wrong?”

“Hey, Saihara chan.”

Shuichi tilted his head as Ouma turned around.

“Why does it hurt so much?”

Shuichi sprang forward as Ouma tumbled to the floor. “Ouma-Kun!” he shrieked as pink bubbled up through the lips of the other.

Frantic, Shuichi attempted to stanch the blood flow, fingers squelching sickeningly as they pressed the soaked fabric to the wound. 

But there was too much, and the warm liquid seeped through his useless hands and onto his lap, onto the floor. The bright _pink pink pink_ contrasting the clean white of Ouma’s tattered shirt, growing too large too quickly as it kept _drip drip dripping_ out of the small body and onto the cold, cold tiles below.

Shuichi cursed himself for not noticing sooner, for not noticing how alarmingly pale and frail Ouma was, and how he wasn’t his usual talkative self. Now the small leader was going to die in a puddle of his own blood, his only company a useless detective and the books they had thrown carelessly into a corner before.

“No” Ouma gasped out as he grabbed weakly at his chest, his iconic checkered scarf stained the same nauseatingly pink color as the rest of him. He grew paler. “I don’t want to die.” he sobbed, “I’m not ready” blood gargled in his throat, “not yet.”

Shuichi pushed against the steady flow of pink, head dizzy at the metallic scent. His shirt was soaked through and he felt as if he would puke, uselessly pressing his bloody hands into Ouma’s equally bloody chest as the latter wheezed through labored breaths. 

“You’re okay.” his voice trembled as he watched Ouma’s life slip through his fingers and pool into the floor below, “I got you. You’ll be okay.” He felt like he was underwater, pushing his hands harder to stop the flow even though he knew that it was futile, that Ouma was not okay, that Ouma would be joining the others soon and it would _all be his fault_.

“There’s so much….” Ouma gasped as Shuichi numbly held on, “I s-still need to do…. So much I still-” he coughed, splattering more blood on Shuichi’s chest, “w-want to say.” 

There was _too much_ blood coming from such a small body, the neon pink overwhelming all other colors, glaring, garish and _there._

“Save your breath.” Shuichi shushed him tearfully, even though he knew that these words would be his last. Ouma was growing cold.

“Please!” Ouma cried, and Shuichi’s heart broke into a thousand fragmented shards. “I need… t-to tell Kiibo...im sorry… To make amends… with Harukawa-chan a-and Momota-kun...and” he choked on his vital fluids, pale like snow and cold, _so cold_ . “I w-want to tell you h-how I _feel_!” he wheezed as Shuichi trembled above him. He barely had a pulse.

“Shu...i..chi…” Ouma rasped weakly as he raised an icy hand to touch Shuichi’s face, smearing a bright pink over his cheek he could hardly feel. “I…….. Lo…” it dropped, and Ouma lay still.

Shaking like a leaf, Shuichi lifted his stained pink hands and rested them on Ouma’s cheeks. “Ouma-kun?” he whispered, smiling weakly, “You can open your eyes now.”

They did not open.

“Hey, Ouma-kun, this has got to be a lie, right? You got me!” Shuichi laughed hysterically, “You can get up now!”

No response.

“Ouma-kun, you s-still gotta…” Shuichi attempted to wipe the blood from Ouma’s face, only succeeding in smearing more across his pale cheeks. “ you still gotta do all those things you said! You still need to apologize to Kiibo-kun a-and make amends with Maki-san and Kaito-kun and...and'' Shuichi choked up, tears filling his eyes as his lips wobbled. “And…”

Shuichi hiccupped and pressed his forehead to Ouma’s, blood mixing with his tears as they lay together in a pool of Ouma’s lifeblood. Pink was all he could see, all he could taste, like some kind of cruel dream he knew he could never wake from. He closed his eyes, smelling lavender and the sick, sick scent of blood.

“I never got to tell you that I love you, Kokichi.” he whispered, alone, drenched in gore, and clinging onto the lifeless body of his love. Tears slipped silently down his face as he kissed Ouma’s forehead for the first and last time, tasting his salty blood. 

  
  
  
  


Ouma’s body was cold, and yet Shuichi had never been colder.

**Author's Note:**

> HHAHAAHHAHAHA THE POWER OF 3 AM MOTHERFUCKERS
> 
> SUFFER AS I DID
> 
> Also if y'all ask, no, i did not plan out what killed Kokichi, this is just an angst vent fic. Who knows? Maybe its one of Shuichi's nightmares after Kokichi died........ ;)
> 
> OR NOT!! YOU'LL NEVER KNOW!!!
> 
> sorry if everything seems a bit rushed in the story... I was really tired :p
> 
> THANKS FOR READING!!!!


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